


You're Not Alone

by piraninjedi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cute, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post Season/Series 05, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piraninjedi/pseuds/piraninjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After getting advice from Sam, Castiel tries to court Dean. Easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean rested on the bed in their hotel, enjoying the magic fingers and listening to some Zeppelin. It had been months since the Apocalypse was averted, and both Sam and Castiel had been brought back. Castiel suspected that it was God's work, and at that point, Dean no longer argued. He was grateful that his baby brother was alive and okay, and not an archangel chew toy.

With Lucifer gone, life was finally returning to normal. Well, as normal as it could be for the Winchester boys. There were still demons and other supernatural creatures out there, and people still needed saving, so they continued the hunter lifestyle. After all, they were both too changed to live the apple pie life.

Sammy was out doing research to find a new case, so the elder hunter was using the free time to relax. He didn't dare sleep. Lately, the horrors of the past few years had been catching up to him every time he tried to sleep. What little rest he managed to get was never enough.

When his quarter ran out, he sighed and sat up, turning his music off. That had been his last quarter. Of course, he could go to the gas station that was a block away and get some change, but he didn't feel like going out into the cold February air. He hoped their next case took them somewhere a bit warmer.

Instead, he stood up and grabbed the remote, flipping the TV on. If he was lucky, he could catch a rerun of _Dr. Sexy, M.D._ He wasn't so lucky, so he flipped it on to the discovery channel, a show about birds. Dean watched idly for a few minutes while the narrator talked about the different types of feathers on an eagle's wing.

His mind drifted then, to his angel. He had never actually seen Castiel's wings, just a shadow the first day he had met the angel. Dean wondered if his feathers were similar to that of the bird on the show or if they were completely different. He wondered what color they were and if they would be soft.

Dean scowled at the train of thought and turned the TV off angrily. There was no point going down that road. The guy was a friggin' angel, not to mention in a male vessel. Even if the hunter got over the fact that Castiel was a _he_ , there was no way he could be with an angel. He'd been to hell, had tortured those souls and some dark, twisted part of him had enjoyed it. Cas would never want him in that way.

He was damaged.

"I need a drink," he groaned, retrieving his leather coat and exiting the hotel, the need for alcohol stronger than the desire to stay warm.

He regretted letting Sammy take the Impala, but thankfully he found a bar just a couple blocks away. Inside, he sat at the bar and ordered a beer. Dean scoped the bar. There were a couple people around his age seated at the bar. None of the women were worth hitting on, not that he really wanted to anyway, and he sighed. Several college-aged guys were playing pool, and putting on a confident smile, he headed towards them. If there was one thing he was good at besides hunting, it was hustling pool. Besides, he could use a bit of hard-earned cash.

The hunter walked away from the pool table a few rounds later, stuffing the money he had won into his wallet. Just as he sat down at the bar, his phone rang. Recognizing the number as Sammy's, he answered.

"Dude, where are you?" Came his little brother's voice.

"I'm at the bar, just a few blocks from the hotel," Dean responded, motioning to the bartender for another beer.

Sammy sighed into the phone, "Well, hurry up and get back. I think I may have found a case."

"Alright, I'll be back in a few," Dean hung up the phone and took his time finishing the beer. He wasn't quite ready to head back to the hotel, but the prospect of a hunt made returning a little bit easier.

oooooo

Dean stared in horror at the spot where Castiel had been standing. Blood and gore covered the ground and Dean felt sick to his stomach. Not only had he lost his baby brother, but Castiel too. Bobby's death was just the icing on the cake. He wanted to give up, what point was there now?

Lucifer, in Sammy's body, beat him to a pulp. The physical pain he felt was nothing compared to the emotional pain. He could handle a beating, his time in hell had hardened him. But losing his little brother and his surrogate father? Losing Cas? He had lost everything.

Just as Dean was about to give in to the darkness, Sam overpowered the archangel, throwing himself and Michael into the cage. Dean collapsed against the Impala, a bloody mess. He hurt, God, how he hurt. He was alone in the cemetery, Bobby's prone form a few yards from him and the grass was covered in Castiel's blood. He was alone and there was nothing he could do, no one he could turn to. Sam had asked him to go to Lisa, but he knew he couldn't. He was broken, damaged.

And alone.

Dean woke in a sweat and he sat up, immediately glancing towards the other bed. Sam was sound asleep. The elder hunter relaxed, breath evening out as he collapsed on the bed, throwing an arm over his face. He lay there for nearly ten minutes before he got up, unable to return to sleep.

In the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face. It was refreshing, but the memories of the nightmare still haunted him, fresh in his mind. Dean sat down on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees and resting his head on his hands. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten a decent night's sleep and he knew Sammy would question him sooner or later. Knowing him, it would be sooner.

A flutter of wings had him glancing up. "Cas," Dean breathed, staring into those blue eyes. Whether the angel knew it or not, he was grateful for the company. Not that he would admit it out loud, but seeing his angel, there and alive and looking rumpled as ever, was a relief. "How'd you find us?" He was fairly certain those Enochian sigils were still carved on his and Sammy's ribs.

"Sam texted me the location," Castiel stated, as if it were obvious. He hadn't arrived right away, as he had been in a meeting with the archangel Raphael. There had been several topics that had needed to be covered; one of which was the end of the Apocalypse. But when Castiel sensed Dean's distress, he arrived at their current location as soon as he was able.

He noted the dark circles under the hunter's eyes and he could feel the concern growing. "You look terrible."

Dean huffed, crossing his arms, "Gee, what a way to make a guy feel special." He was tired which made him short-tempered on a good day, and with Castiel looking at him like that, the hunter was in no mood to pretend that everything was okay.

Castiel tilted his head and stared at his human charge. He frowned after a moment, brows furrowed, "That was sarcasm."

"Well, you're certainly getting better at the human thing."

Normally, Castiel could brush off Dean's words. But today, he just snapped. "I came because I thought you needed help, but I will not be treated like this." And he left, the sound of wings beating loud in the quiet motel.

Dean mentally kicked himself, "Son of a bitch!"

ooooooo

Castiel stretched his wings carefully. The new feathers that were growing in were making the wings sore and keeping them tucked tightly in only made him more uncomfortable and irritable. That was why he landed in one of his favorite places; a meadow with tall, golden grass. There was plenty of room to stretch without fear of being seen.

Under better circumstances, he wouldn't have stormed out on Dean; but he was already in a bad mood and the hunter's words had only made him more upset. He may have been an angel, but that didn't mean he didn't feel emotions. On the contrary, they ran through him strong, especially since he had been saved from death a second time.

He wasn't sure if it was a fluke—some residual side effects from his time spent as a human; or if it was deliberate, a part of God's plan. But if that was the case, then he had no idea what His plan was.

He could feel another feather work its way out and Castiel couldn't wait for molting season to be over. That was the other topic in his meeting with Raphael. Molting season meant that mating season was approaching. Now that the Apocalypse was over, the remaining angels could focus on rebuilding Heaven. They had lost many in the last few years and their numbers were dwindling.

Though he knew it was his duty to help, Castiel found no angel that captured his interest. No, there was only one person that held his attention in the way that a mate should. And that person he had just ran from. He sighed and gazed upward, watching as a star dashed across the sky.

Raphael had granted him permission to leave Heaven temporarily, in order to attempt to court Dean Winchester. Had he not played such a pivotal role in stopping the Apocalypse, Castiel knew this would never be allowed. But God had brought him back, twice, and after discussing his concern over the human emotions that still lingered strongly, the archangel agreed to Castiel's plea.

Now, he just had to figure out what he had to do in order to win Dean's heart. He considered asking Sam for advice, especially since Castiel had no idea how to do so. But he would have to wait until the younger Winchester was alone. And right now, he was asleep in a motel where Dean was still probably fuming. They were working a case, however, so he knew they would remain in the same area for a few days. He could wait.

He found Sam, a day later, in a library. "Hello, Sam." The younger hunter started, before returning the greeting. Castiel sat across from him, "I need some assistance."

Sam leaned forward and spoke in a quiet voice, "Is this about the argument you had with Dean?"

The angel nodded. He should have known that Sam would notice something was going on. "I wish to court Dean."

Sam coughed. He hadn't expected Cas to be so blunt, though he had suspected it might be something like that. He wasn't blind—he had seen the way the two would stare at each other; not to mention the fact that Castiel had a tendency of crowding Dean's personal space. He never did that with anyone else, Sam had noted.

"Yeah, um. Well, now's a good time to do so, I guess." At Castiel's confused gaze, he elaborated, "Valentine's Day is in a week."

"Of course," the angel nodded. He had lost track of the human months, completely forgetting about the holiday.

"Flowers and candy would be normal Valentine's gifts, but Dean's not into that. And you'll have to make it obvious, because he's so hard-headed about everything."

"What do you suggest?"

"Whatever you do, it should be personal," Sam paused, trying to think of something. For the next hour, they planned, and even though Sam hadn't been able to think of an actual gift, he had certainly helped the angel figure out how to present the gift.

"Thank you, Sam, your advice was insightful," he responded and vanished. Sam sat back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. He couldn't wait to see how this would play out. He only hoped that his brother wouldn't do something stupid.


	2. Chapter Two

"Damn vampire," Dean grumbled and pulled on a fresh change of clothes after stepping out of the shower. The case they had worked turned out to be a rogue vampire, and Dean ended up beheading the damned thing. Covered in blood, the first thing he did when he and his little brother returned to the hotel, was pass out on his bed. His body was exhausted, and he slept surprisingly well that night, nightmare free.

When Dean woke, he had found a note taped to the TV from Sam, saying he was going to the library, the nerd. At least this time he didn't take the Impala.

Exiting the bathroom, he froze, spotting Castiel sitting on the edge of his bed. But what made Dean's breath catch was the fact that the angel wasn't wearing his usual suit and trench coat. No, instead he had on a pair of almost-black jeans and a v-neck sweater that was the perfect shade to complement those blue eyes. Without the bulky trench coat, Castiel was lithe, like a runner or swimmer. His hair was still messy as ever and the hunter swallowed.

All week, he had wanted to call the angel, apologize and let everything go back to normal. He knew he owed Castiel, but had no idea how to go about doing that. He supposed, though, the first step would be to apologize, even if it led to a chick-flick moment.

"Listen, Cas, I'm—"

"I want to show you something, Dean," Castiel interrupted as he stood, crowding Dean's space. For the last week, he had taken Sam's advice to a tee, and if this didn't work, then Castiel would have to return to Heaven.

One of the younger Winchester's suggestions was to dress differently. When Castiel relented, Sam had picked his new outfit. Though he had no idea why clothes were so important, he could see it had an effect on Dean. But he had never been good at reading humans, so he wasn't sure if it was in his favor.

Dean tried not to react to how close the angel was, but he found himself swallowing tightly, body stiff. He furrowed his brows, "What is it?" The shorter man turned away from Dean and left the hotel, leaving the hunter no choice but to follow. Once outside, he stopped at the passenger side of the Impala. "You want to drive somewhere?" Dean stood by the driver side, resting his arms on the hood of the car, certain that Castiel had lost it.

Castiel caught his gaze, blue meeting green and spoke, "I know you do not care for my method of travelling, so driving is our only option." He looked away after he finished, suddenly feeling a strange knotting in his stomach. He recognized it as insecurity. He almost expected Dean to refuse and the angel wasn't sure if he was ready for that.

The hunter was stunned. Castiel never looked away first. "You wanna tell me what's going on, Cas?"

"Please, Dean."

Castiel lifted his head, meeting Dean's eyes again. If he wasn't mistaken, was that a blush on the angel's cheeks? They stared for what seemed like an eternity, searching for answers.

He couldn't say no to the angel and he gave in, "Alright."

So he got in the car and turned the key over, the engine roaring to life. For twenty minutes, Castiel directed him where to go and when he finally pulled to a stop in a parking lot, somewhere on the other side of town, he stepped out of the car. He looked around, noting there were several mom and pop businesses, but could not figure out why the angel would bring him here.

Castiel moved away from the car and headed down the street, sure that Dean was following. He paused in front of a café, opening the door and allowing a confused hunter to enter. He had been here yesterday and had talked to the manager. The same woman greeted them and when she recognized Castiel, she winked, "Right this way."

Dean frowned. Since when did women pay attention to Castiel and not him? And more importantly, why was she winking at his angel? He had to take a deep breath; there was no reason to get worked up. Castiel wasn't his…boyfriend, lover, whatever it was called these days. He had no claim on the angel.

But he was getting impatient. As soon as they sat down and the waitress left, he asked in a terse voice, "Alright, now what did you want to show me?"

"Here you go," the waitress returned almost immediately and Castiel was thankful. She set a large piece of apple pie, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, on the table. "Enjoy!"

Dean eyed the pie. God, it smelled good. He sent a questioning glance to Castiel. "What's this?"

At his words, the angel panicked. Was it not right? He could have sworn that Sam said apple pie. He couldn't believe he had messed up already. What was he going to do now? "I'm sorry, I thought that you preferred this type of pastry."

"Are you kidding?" Dean said and a slow smile spread across his face. "This is my favorite! If it tastes half as good as it smells," he let his voice trail off as he really looked at Castiel. He seemed so relieved that Dean was confused for the umpteenth time that morning. The concern was prominent when he asked, "Cas, what's going on?"

Castiel felt his face heating up. "I just wanted to do something nice for you."

Guilt ate at Dean. "Jesus, Cas, after the way I treated you? I don't deserve this."

Castiel didn't like how the hunter always thought so little of himself. If only he could see how brightly his soul shone. However, he didn't want to start an argument, so he simply said, "Then please, just humor me?" It was a phrase that he had learned from Dean and it seemed applicable to their situation.

Dean stared down at the pie, watching as the ice cream began to melt, little by little, on top of the warm pastry. "Fine, but you've gotta try this."

He tried to refuse, insisting that it was Dean's. But the hunter refused to eat it if Castiel wouldn't at least take a bite. So they ended up sharing the slice and Dean leaned back in the booth, letting out a content sigh. "That was the best pie I've had in awhile."

Castiel smiled, glad he had so far done something right. Now he just had to give Dean his actual gift. He fiddled with the box in his hands, having materialized it so the hunter would not notice it. But now it was hiding on his lap, under the table, and he was feeling that insecurity again.

"Cas?" Dean noticed how distracted Castiel seemed. Something was bothering the angel and he could not, for the life of him, figure out what this was all about. He was being particularly dodgy today, wearing new clothes, making Dean drive him all around town, then bringing him to this café and getting him his favorite dessert, just so he could be nice to the hunter? Not to mention the fact that Castiel had been blushing…

"Cas, is this a date?"

If it were possible, Castiel blushed even more as he nodded and he placed a box on the table. It was the size of a piece of paper and almost two inches thick. But what stood out were the little red and pink hearts that covered it. "It is tradition to get those you love a present on Valentine's Day." Castiel stated, though he sounded so uncertain that Dean glanced up.

At his words, Dean felt a sudden weight lift from him. That the angel loved him was a dawning realization that shook him to his core. And Castiel looked so, dare he say it, adorable, sitting there and waiting for Dean to open the gift. So he grinned, lifting the lid off and revealing a dream catcher.

It looked handmade, from twine and grapevine with an intricate pattern in the center. Three strands dangled from the bottom of the hoop, with green and blue stones encasing the shaft of a feather on each end. The feathers themselves glistened in the morning sunlight, black with hints of color that reminded Dean of spilled oil.

"You haven't been sleeping well, lately," Castiel explained, unsure if the hunter liked the gift. He hadn't said anything yet, just stared at it. "I thought it might help."

"What kind of feathers are these?" Dean asked, the awe evident in his voice, as he traced the feathers. They were softer than they looked but there was something strange about them. They felt oddly familiar and warm in his hands, comforting. Castiel mumbled something and Dean didn't catch it, though he had a sneaking suspicion. "Come again?"

"They're mine."

At first, Dean was stunned. But then he felt almost guilty. "You yanked your feathers out?" It sounded like a painful process and he didn't want the angel causing himself pain just because he was trying to impress Dean.

Castiel tilted his head, confused. He had thought that Dean liked the gift, but now he wasn't so sure. He sounded almost angry. "No, it's molting season," he answered slowly, not sure what was going to happen. When Dean had asked if this was a date, he didn't seem to mind the idea. Castiel had thought that everything was going okay. But the look on the hunter's face now made Castiel doubt everything.

"What, so like, your feathers fell out? No pain?"

"To an extent, yes. As new feathers grow in, they force out the old feathers. It's not painful, but merely uncomfortable."

Dean let out a sigh of relief. Knowing that released the guilt he had felt. Replaced was a sudden curiosity—outside of being soldiers and the fact that most of them were dicks, Dean knew next to nothing about angels. "Do all angels go through this?"

The angel shook his head, "Just those that are sexually mature."

"Wait, angels can have sex? Doesn't it go against God's plan or something?"

Castiel blushed, "I said that I never had occasion. That doesn't mean my brothers and sisters haven't." He rose and Castiel glanced up at him, bewilderment in his eyes. "Dean?"

"Let's go," Dean said, grabbing his gift and heading towards the door.

Castiel was quick to follow. "I don't understand," he said as they reached the car, having caught up to the hunter. Had he angered the hunter?

"You take me on a date, give me a friggin' Valentine's gift, and tell me that angels are allowed to have sex," Dean grinned as he caught Castiel's gaze, for once crowding his space instead of the other way around. Bringing a hand up, he pulled the angel to him and pressed their lips together. Castiel stiffened but then relaxed into the kiss.

Castiel pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against Dean's, both panting. Something was nagging at him. He furrowed his brows, staring into green eyes, "Does this mean you accept the gift?"

Dean laughed, "Yes, Cas. That's exactly what it means."


End file.
